


Oceans

by konan_konan



Series: Konan's DNF Fics [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Phone Calls & Telephones, Short & Sweet, this could be read as platonic idk, video calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28585827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konan_konan/pseuds/konan_konan
Summary: Clay's smile grows, ever so slightly, and George's does in turn.(And there's another symmetry there, he thinks, nibbling at the back of his mind. Something he dismissed, again and again…Something herememberslike fire stretching across his skin.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Konan's DNF Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020660
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36
Collections: you've read this fucker :]





	Oceans

**Author's Note:**

> writer's block will not go away unless im writing dnf sorry

"Am I a bad person?"

George blinks, then cocks his head to the side. "What makes you ask that?"

There's only silence for a moment, then: "I've been awful to people recently. And I know it's just a game, and it's scripted, but…"

George pauses his game, pulls up Discord, and watches Dream's video feed. He's fidgeting, spinning back and forth in his swivel chair, gnawing on his knuckles.

(George can see, even on the grainy webcam feed, that his skin is red and raw and angry. He wonders how long Dream has been picking away at himself, in all the ways he tends to do.)

"I feel like I'm the bad guy," he says quietly. "Like, in real life."

"You're not," George says simply. "You're not the bad guy."

Dream - no, Clay - looks up. George can tell Clay's looking into his eyes by the way his gaze is focused just below the camera. He can see the gears turning in his head, the way his irises adjust slightly to take in all of George's features.

George offers a smile, and Clay returns it, although it seems dimmed compared to his usual enthusiasm.

(Echoes of a raised voice, shocked faces, terrified laughter. A manic grin across his features, unseen by the millions. He screams, enraged and deafening.)

"I know that," Clay finally says. "And, and I know everyone else does, too. And I know that I'm being silly for, for, for feeling like this, but-"

"It's not silly," George interrupts, shaking his head. "This stuff can get to you, you know? Like, you're doing so many cool things, but it all came at you so fast. It's okay to feel confused, or overwhelmed, like…"

Clay's smile grows, ever so slightly, and George's does in turn.

(And there's another symmetry there, he thinks, nibbling at the back of his mind. Something he dismissed, again and again…

Something he  _ remembers _ like fire stretching across his skin.)

"How long have you been feeling like this?"

He hesitates. Shrugs. "Awhile, I guess. Since I started playing the bad guy. Since you left."

And George feels it too, the pain in his chest that came and went as he left Dream's side on the server. He remembers the burning in his throat, the confusion at what he was feeling.

(It was just heartburn, he thought. Or dehydration. Or, or…)

Looking back, it's obvious. It all felt too real. It felt like he really could just walk away from it all in the real world. 

He imagines leaving it all behind. YouTube, Twitch, his friends, his dream…

His Dream.

Clay is watching him, and he realizes with a start how long he's been quiet for.

There's something nice about the quiet, though. He shrugs, and Clay seems to understand. 

(Clay always seems to understand. Even when George is being obtuse, even when George is being vague, even when George himself doesn't understand what he's trying to convey. Clay understands him, makes him the foundation of kingdoms and empires.

Clay is over him in every moment, looking down on him with such understanding that George cannot always bear it. He wonders sometimes what it would be like, to know someone more intimately than they know themself.

He knows Clay, he thinks. And Clay knows him.)

"I think I get what you mean," he murmurs. "You're not a bad person, either."

Those eyes pierce him, even through the screen. An ocean away, those eyes are studying him, judging him, loving him.

A world in shadow keeps them apart, but he dreams of crossing the barriers, running through wind and rain and snow and fire to find those eyes.

He imagines how different they will look in person.

"You really think so?"

And George has made himself bare, raw, unprotected. Neither of them are wrong for this, he thinks. It's all a game, it's all in the past, it's all whatever.

There's so many excuses.

(Clay smiles.)

"Yeah, George. I do."

**Author's Note:**

> ay idk if dream has anxiety but i am projecting onto him for that aspect so. i have anxiety therefore so does green man.


End file.
